" He stamped in a sort of impotent
frenzy. "I stood over him and made him. It was just what I wanted to do.
It was--it was--beyond endurance."
"Oh, my dear!" she said.
He put his hands over his face. "Juliet,--it was--hell!" he said
brokenly. "When I wrote that note to you--I thought the worst was over.
But it wasn't--it wasn't! He was past speaking--but his eyes--they kept
imploring me to let him go.--O God, I'd given my soul to help him! And I
could do--nothing--except see him die!"
Again a convulsive shudder caught him. Juliet's arms went around him. She
held his head against her breast.
"It's over now," she whispered. "Thank God for that!"
He leaned upon her for a space. "Yes, it's over. At least he died in
peace," he said, and drew a hard, quivering breath. Then he stood up
again. "Juliet, I'm so sorry. Come inside! I'll light the lamp. I
couldn't stand that empty house--with only my boy's dead body in it. Mrs.
Rickett has been there, but she's gone now." He turned and pushed open
the door. "Wait a minute while I light up!"
She did not wait, but followed him closely, and stood beside him while
he lighted a lamp on the wall.
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